


Your love is a fraction, and it's not adding up

by Igirisuhito



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Discussions of Eating Disorders, Explicit Language, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mentions of surgery, Ogling?, Sexual Humor, also known as 'kamukura looks at matsudas dick for an inappropriate amount of time'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23746960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Igirisuhito/pseuds/Igirisuhito
Summary: Mundane tasks bore Kamukura Izuru. Incompetent children who don't know how to take care of themselves piss Matsuda Yasuke off, apparently.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Matsuda Yasuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98





	Your love is a fraction, and it's not adding up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystxMomo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystxMomo/gifts).



> I'd like to wish a very belated happy birthday to my dear friend Red ;; apologies that this took as long as it did, it turns out that it's actually hard to write a fic in a day! who knew.
> 
> Also can the old farts from the steering committee get some names already? I'm sick of having to make up ones.

"How many days has it been this time?!"

The door slammed against the wall with a bang, and there stood a slightly out of breath Matsuda with a deep scowl on his face. His eyebrows were so furrowed that you could barely see that icy blue glare beneath them. If Kamukura's guess was correct (and it always was) he had just come out of his weekly check in with the steering committee. 

"Please specify what it is you're asking." Kamukura spoke, his soft tone contrasting heavily against the booming voice that left the other boy.

Removing his hand from the door, Matsuda crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up to the ceiling, flicking his hair back out of his eyes in the process as he looked down at Kamukura. "Don't act stupid, you know exactly what I'm asking about you fucking greasy troglodyte."

"I don't think the person keeping me here has the right to call me a troglodyte." Kamukura's eyes flickered down to the manga in his hands. "However, if you're inquiring how many days it has been since I refreshed myself, the answer is five, rounded down." 

"Five days?” Matsuda snorted, “You’re shitting me, no wonder Kobayashi was so bitter. You know it's me who has to touch your disgusting self, right?"

Kamukura brought his hand to his mouth and quickly licked his thumb before turning the page with a loud flick. "I'm aware."

“You dick.” Unfolding his arms, Matsuda took a few long strides that made his sandals snap against the vinyl floor before snatching the manga from Kamukura’s hands. “Stop licking my manga, you’re disgusting. And stop being such a spoiled brat, it’s an unbecoming trait in troglodytes.”

“ _Again_ , I believe it’s--”

The manga was slapped hard against the top of Kamukura’s head, how unfortunate that he was reading an extended edition of Ponpon, because that one actually hurt a little. “I don’t give a shit about what you _believe_. Go wash up before I take away one of your five senses.”

Kamukura sniffed the air, staring at Matsuda’s crumpled Hope’s Peak shirt. There was a toothpaste stain just below his sternum.

A loud scoff left the older boy. “What? Are you pretending to cry? I already know you’re incapable of that you emotion deficient sack of--”

“How long has it been since _you_ bathed?”

 _Thwack._ The book hit Kamukura’s cranium once again. “This isn’t about me, Kobayashi was complaining about _you_.”

Ah, Kamukura had hit his mark, perfect. “Perhaps I should start complaining to the Steering Committee that my doctor is unprofessional and fetid. Surely they would be willing to give me another who has higher standards for personal hygiene and knows how to wash his shirts.” 

“I know how to wash my fucking shirts. I’m so sorry that I don’t have a personal maid waiting on hand and foot to do my laundry every single day.” Matsuda hissed, glancing down at himself and tugging at the hem of his shirt. 

“You’ve been wearing the same toothpaste-stained shirt for three days now.” A slow blink passed as Kamukura looked up to meet Matsuda’s eyes. “I’m willing to speculate that you haven’t bathed for longer than that.”

“Yeah? And so fucking what, Sherlock?”

“You know I don’t understand your references to Western media…” Kamukura mumbled. “But my point is that your accusations hold no weight, for I will not bathe for a hypocrite who cannot uphold his own standards of cleanliness.”

A hand reached out, securing a fistful of ebony hair and tugging harshly in a way that forced Kamukura's head to jolt forward. “Actually, yes you will, because I am your supervisor and you will listen to what I tell you to do.”

For a second, Kamukura said nothing, turning over the possibilities in his mind. With an impatient sigh, Matsuda allowed him a second to process and gather his thoughts. Matsuda Yasuke may be an asshole, but he was sympathetic to the poor kid who he gave capabilities much too big for his brain to handle.

Only a little, though.

Once finding his words, Kamukura gave Matsuda another slow blink, seemingly unbothered by the hand in his hair. “I do not have to obey your demands, however, I am willing to yield if you admit to the fact you are a hypocrite.” 

“That’s not happening. Come on.” With a sharp tug, Kamukura was yanked up to his feet, no pain showing on his face but it definitely hurt more than he would have liked. “The safest place to take you would probably be the communal baths in the old building, because you are not setting _foot_ in my dorm.”

Kamukura followed obediently as Matsuda began to drag him along. “This is likely due to the fact it is as dirty as you are, am I correct?”

"Shut your filthy mouth."

* * *

  
  
  


At some point during their walk to the old building, Matsuda had politely let go of Kamukura's hair, probably out of laziness and a fear of being questioned by any passer-bys. It was dark outside, judging by the angle of the shadows and the height of the moon, Kamukura was able to determine the sun had only set an hour ago. There were few students wandering the campus, those who did notice Matsuda didn't seem to acknowledge Kamukura. As they shouldn't, after all, he was very good at hiding his presence. 

Matsuda's face had an unhealthily pale glow in the moonlight. It reminded Kamukura a little of his own sun-deficient complexion. Those cheeks seemed to have thinned out significantly since they had first met, something that caused an unfamiliar sensation to swirl in Kamukura's chest, a sensation that weighed heavy on his jaw and heart. 

"Did you eat dinner? It's not healthy to skip meals."

A soft "Huh?" left Matsuda's lips as he turned to the boy to his left, glancing down at him. "That's a stupid question for a troglodyte to ask. Shouldn’t a troglodyte such as yourself be able to at least ask me something interesting?"

Kamukura pursed his lips together, before separating them with a soft pop. "Being a troglodyte is unrelated to the question."

"So you admit that you're a troglodyte then?" 

"I _admit_ that you need a better insult."

Matsuda tipped his head back as a loud snort of laughter escaped him. Kamukura merely clenched his teeth more tightly. "You avoided the question."

Huffing, Matsuda pushed open the door to the old building, stepping inside and propping it open with his foot whilst he waited for Kamukura to follow. “Like I said, it’s a stupid question, why would I bother answering it?”. 

“When placed in situations that are stressful, some people resort to binge eating, whilst others tend to eat less frequently.” Stepping into the building, Kamukura glanced around at the familiar sight of the lightly coloured halls. “This is because one who is stressed may desire to distract themselves, or be so troubled by their worries they no longer notice the signals their body is sending to the brain.”

“I went to fucking med school, I know this. Who’s dodging the question now huh?” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Matsuda stepped around the small seating area and turned right down the hall, heading in the direction of the old dorms and cafeteria.

“I’m expressing that you may be one of those people, Matsuda. You have lost a significant amount of weight in the last month.” 

Matsuda rounded a corner, his pace quickened slightly. “I’m on a diet. I could afford to lose some weight.”

“But you are within the healthy weight range for your age? Even if you are leaning slightly towards the ‘overweight’ category, there’s no need for dieting.”

“See, you just admitted it, I could stand to lose a few kilograms.”

A soft inhale could be heard from Kamukura. “Is this why you haven’t been eating the snacks I give you?”

Finally, Matsuda stopped and glanced back at the other boy. There still was no emotion painted on Kamukura’s ever stoic face. Beautiful and apathetic, like a porcelain doll to be perched upon one’s collection. The thought made Matsuda’s throat tighten in an unpleasant way he refused to acknowledge.

“Yes. I haven’t been eating your snacks because I’m trying to lose weight.” He thread a hand into his hair with a sigh.

“I see. So why have you still been eating your own?”

 _Shck!_ Matsuda could hear the sound of Kamukura’s keen argument cutting through his flesh. Those burning scarlet eyes were digging into his soul, slender fingers reaching towards the truth of his lie. It was a nauseating sensation, one that could have been completely avoided by just telling the truth to begin with. 

But Matsuda was in too deep, as was the case with most of the lies and secrets he had picked up since beginning his studies at Hope’s Peak Academy. It was a realisation that shook him to his core.

A slow blink, “Matsuda?”

He snapped back to reality. “Let’s just get you cleaned up you gross weirdo. I don’t think I can stand being in the presence of someone so smelly for much longer.

Kamukura opened his mouth to argue, but his hair suddenly being pulled in the direction of the bathrooms distracted him. He knew better than to question Matsuda’s motives, no amount of interrogation seemed to get anything out of him. Besides, he was sure whatever deep rooted issues Matsuda was hiding would bore him anyway.

With Matsuda’s arm parting the curtain, the two of them stepped into the change rooms. Within moments, Matsuda was already pulling off his tie and tossing it into one of the lockers.

“It seems like a worthless choice to leave this building still functioning.” As he shrugged off his jacket, Kamukura watched the other’s movements closely. 

“Not really, I’m pretty sure there’s a few people still staying here and using the facilities for convenience sake." Those precise fingers undid a few buttons on his shirt. "Not students, though, teachers, personnel.” 

“I see.” In a swift movement, Kamukura pulled off his tie and placed it into the locker beside Matsua’s along with his blazer. “You do realise we won’t have clean clothes to change into after this?”

“There’s a few spare uniforms in one of the lower lockers. I had someone bring some here after our last _incident_.” The inflection on the last word would have made most people feel somewhat guilty, but Kamukura didn’t care in the slightest.

Matsuda pulled his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to the open air. Kamukura’s eyes immediately darted to the small pouch of baby fat sitting on his stomach, he wasn’t as chubby as Kamukura recalled.

A flick against his forehead brought him back before he could get too deep in his thoughts. “Stop fucking ogling me and get undressed, creep. Or are you such a useless weirdo that you need me to help?”

Before Kamukura had a chance to answer the question, Matsuda had begun undoing the buttons of his shirt, starting from the collar. He went to reject the help, as he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, but something about the other boy being so close in his vicinity just made him close his mouth again.

Once all the buttons had been undone and Kamukura’s mouth was thoroughly dry for a reason he didn’t understand, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and placed it with his other clothes. He realised he wasn’t getting any further assistance when Matsuda took a step back and kicked off his sandals, reminding Kamukura to slip off his own socks and shoes as well.

The click of unclasping metal seemed incredibly loud amongst the silence of the room, along with the following shuffle of Matsuda sliding his pants off his legs. As Kamukura began to unbuckle his own belt, he couldn’t help but glance at Matsuda’s underwear. Something deep within him was so curious about what Matsuda’s underwear looked like, and he didn’t quite understand what that was.

The answer was unsurprising. They were rather faded and thin, with an incredibly distracting striped pattern. Kamukura could see the globes of his ass through the fabric, which also meant they were much _too_ thin.

He reverted his attention back to the task at hand, undoing the button and fly of his slacks before pulling them down and stepping out of them. He then hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers before tugging them down at well. 

It didn’t feel too strange to be so exposed next to Matsuda, after all, he was frequently stripping down to his underwear for examinations. He would go naked had Matsuda not insisted on him _not doing that_. Kamukura could recall how he very clearly stated that he does not want to ‘see another man’s junk.’ 

Unfortunately it is inevitable that such an event will occur, especially if you’re often dragged into one of the science labs and forced to bathe under the cold water of the chemical rinse shower. Such a punishment would have taught most people a lesson about refusing to bathe, but not Kamukura. 

“Oi, hurry up, I’m cold.” A harsh voice cut through Kamukura’s moment of recollection. 

He turned to Matsuda just as he was closing the locker he shoved his underwear into. Matsuda had a pair of white towels in his hands, one extended towards Kamukura. Taking it with a steady hand, he then watched as Matsuda turned and headed into the men’s bathroom.

_He's rather attractive from behind._

But like many other of his worthless observations, Kamukura shoved the thought into the deep recesses of his mind as he followed the boy closely behind. 

The bath was rather humid, a thick layer of steam coating the room and leaving everything slightly damp and sheeny. The air was warm, implying that this place was used more recently than he had originally expected. “It appears you were correct.” 

Matsuda tossed his towel onto one of the wooden seats near the corner of the room as he entered. Following suit, Kamukura dropped his towel there next to Matsuda's. 

“Of course I’m fucking correct, I always am.” As Matsuda hissed, he pointed towards the row of showers and stools along the wall. “Sit down and I’ll wash your hair, it’s going to take too long to do yourself.”

“You understand that--” Before Kamukura could finish his sentence, a pair of hands slapped hard against his shoulders. 

Matsuda spun him around and pushed him towards the showers, Kamukura walking along obediently. He didn’t speak a word as Matsuda forced him to sit down. “I understand that it’s difficult, Kamukura. You have a lot of fucking hair.”

He didn’t give Kamukura a chance to ask any more questions, as cold water was suddenly being blasted into his face from the shower head in Matsuda’s hand. He must have flinched, because Matsuda snorted and started cackling. “Oh the look on your face! So betrayed!” 

Kamukura was certain his expression didn’t change, but Matsuda was acting strange. Like he was forcing a mood, deflecting, distracting Kamukura from his multitude of questions about the upkeep of his personal health. 

_Ah_ , he understood now.

He decided to play along. “To splash me with such cold water, how very cruel of you Matsuda Yasuke.”

Running the water onto his hand for a while, Matsuda allowed it to heat up and adjusted the temperature before bringing the stream of water back to his scalp. The warm water made Kamukura’s muscles feel as if they were turning to jello as a pleasant tingle creeped down his spine.

Lithe fingers threaded into the dark strands, spreading them in a way that allowed the water to completely rinse through. “Too hot?”

“Not at all, I prefer it hot.” Relaxing into the soothing touch, Kamukura allowed a soft sigh to pass his lips.

“Good, at least you’re not a complete freak. Still a little bit of human left in that big brain.” Matsuda tugged at a bit of hair, a small smile barely visible reflected in the mirror in front of him. It was a rare sight, he must be enjoying himself.

Kamukura considered returning the smile, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it, it felt wrong, foreign. 

“You’re praising me for preferring hot water, yet I recite hundreds of digits of PI and you are not impressed.” He tilted his head slightly, allowing the warm water to trickle down his neck and onto his chest. “I do not understand, what is it about my intelligence that bothers you?”

“See, you’re asking stupid questions again.” The water was suddenly taken away, the tap switched off as Matsuda stepped forward to hang it back up. “Nothing about your intelligence ‘ _bothers me’_ it’s just easier to fucking- to relate to you when you’re not whipping out a talent.”

He reached for a bottle of shampoo that had been left in a small tray on the floor, jumping when Kamukura spoke up again. “You would prefer if I was normal.”

Matsuda angrily snatched the bottle and uncapped the lid before tipping it upside down over the other boy’s head and squeezing hard. 

“If that was the case, I never would have given you those stupid talents, would I?” His words were contradictory to his tone. And within them held a bitter truth Matsuda seemed to not want to be confronted with. 

“You don’t understand your actions and resent yourself for it.”

“And _you_ need to stop trying to psychoanalyse people. Nobody wants to talk to a weirdo who makes them uncomfortable.” 

Once Matsuda has squeezed out the entirety of the bottle’s contents, he tossed it aside and began to lather up his hair, bringing the ends up and wrapping it in a soapy mess on top of his head. He was rather rough in his technique, but Kamukura didn’t mind.

Deciding to keep his mouth shut, he hummed softly in contentment. Trying to get anything out of Matsuda always proved difficult; he was stubborn. For a guy with such a deep interest in neurology you would think he’d be able to acknowledge his own psychological issues. It was just another one of Matsuda’s many self-destructive personality traits.

A strong tug on his hair perked Kamukura’s attention. “Oi, stop watching me like that. You’re going to get it in your eyes.”

He made a soft noise in response, allowing his eyelids to settle over his eyes. With one less sense active, Kamukura found himself melting into the sensation of blunt nails scraping along his scalp and massaging gently, almost as if they were seeking out something.

Slender fingers rubbed soothingly over the bumpy scars lining Kamukura's scalp, coaxing a soft huff of satisfaction from the boy beneath him. Matsuda made a noise like he was about to comment, but merely sighed instead. “Put your head down so I can get the hair at the back.”

Carefully, Kamukura craned his neck forward, uncovering his nape even further. It was an incredibly vulnerable position; completely naked with his eyes closed and neck exposed, yet he couldn’t find himself feeling worried. If Matsuda _did_ have any intentions of killing him, he probably wouldn't mind dying by his hand anyway.

Matsuda's fingers threaded into the sensitive hair resting at the back of his neck, eliciting a shudder from Kamukura. He worked the shampoo into the knotted hair, grumbling softly as his fingers got caught multiple times.

“You really should try to brush this mess more often you know. If you just took better care I wouldn’t have to deal with it when it gets this bad.” A soft hiss could be heard as he yanked at some more strands, however, the sound hadn’t come from Kamukura. “It’s like you enjoy making my life a living hell.”

“That is not the case. Brushing my hair is a mundane task with little reward, I do not enjoy it.” Kamukura explained.

“Yeah, and neither do I.” A loud groan left Matsuda as he contemplated the best way to clarify things. “Most things involving general upkeep are mundane, but you still have to do them you spoiled brat.”

Those comforting hands left Kamukura’s hair and he found himself instantly missing the sensation. Leaning over his shoulder, Matsuda reached for the shower head once again and turned on the tap.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

A torrent of warm water hit Kamukura’s face, rinsing the shampoo from his bangs. He pursed his lips together and squeezed his eyes closed a little tighter to keep the soap out. Matsuda stroked through the wet strands to ensure they had been thoroughly rinsed, an uncharacteristically soft sigh escaping from him into the tense air. 

When Matsuda moved to working on the back of his hair. Kamukura spoke up. “Something is on your mind.”

“Get out of my head freak.” That scathing tone quickly returned. “You just look weird like this, like a drowned rat.”

“Ah, I see. This amuses you?”

Another sharp tug on his hair. “No, brat. It annoys me how much of a child you are, completely incompetent. You know I don’t enjoy cleaning up your fucking mess.”

Grumbling something that sounded an awful lot like, “Dumbass.” Matsuda stood up again and turned the water off. “You can finish washing yourself, learn to be more responsible.”

Kamukura nodded. “Thank you, Matsuda.”

With a final sigh, Matsuda sat down in the stool to his right and reached for another bottle. Kamukura turned back to the dish in front of him, picking up the bottle of liquid soap before uncapping the lid and pouring some into his hand. He lathered it up between his hands to bring it to a light foam before beginning to scrub at his skin, starting with his arms.

Beside him, Matsuda was working shampoo into his roots. It was rather odd to see him with his bangs slicked back, exposing his forehead and thick eyebrows. He couldn’t help but admire how nice of a look it was on Matsuda, to have his face exposed to the light for once instead of hidden beneath dark bangs and poor basement lighting.

He really was as pretty as the reserve course girls rumoured him to be.

Turning back to what he was doing, Kamukura focused on the sensation of soap rubbing away the thin layer of grime that was clinging to his skin. As much as he refused to bathe, he truly did understand why people did it. It’s refreshing, makes one healthier, relieves feelings of fatigue. What he didn’t understand was why it seemed so difficult to motivate himself to engage in a task that rewarded him greatly. 

It was strange. If someone desires to do something, they should do it, correct? Yet he had no desires. 

They had been surgically removed by Matsuda’s precise hand. 

Was his lack of proper hygiene habits only skin deep? Was there truly any point in analysing and fussing over it?

But, there was always that small chance, the chance that it was something more. Perhaps was there even something wrong with his brai--? 

“Are you done? Or you can’t even do this?” Leaning his hands onto his knees, Matsuda pushed himself up from the stool and turned to Kamukura. 

Ah, he had spaced out yet again. 

With a nod, Kamukura reached for the shower head and began to rinse the soap from his body, avoiding Matsuda’s steely gaze all the while.

Once clean, he hung the shower head back up and looked to the other boy, eyes instantly wandering downwards in a moment of distraction. Huh. 

“It’s smaller than average.” 

Matsuda blinked hard a few times, processing the words. His face twisted into a scowl and his cheeks quickly flushed with a bright red colour as he followed Kamukura’s gaze, “What?!”

“Ah." He pulled his eyes back up. "Nevermind. It’s unimportant.”

With a huff, Matsuda turned on his heel and made his way over to the large bath. The other boy followed at a short distance, careful not to slip on the tiled floor that had been coated with a thin layer of condensation.

Once he reached the bath, Matsuda leaned down and sat on the wooden edge that rimmed it. He dangled his legs into the warm water, a rather gentle smile perking on those thin lips at the sensation. 

“Oi, weirdo, get in.” He waved a hand, beckoning the other to join him. 

Obeying, Kamukura sat himself down next to Matsuda. He then pressed his palms into the polished wood and shifted his weight, slowly lowering himself into the hot water. The water was a perfect temperature, and he couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh of pleasure as his torso became submerged in a blissful heat.

“It’s good, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped Matsuda, “Why would you ever deprive yourself of this?”

“Hmmmmm, I don’t know.” Closing his eyes, Kamukura sunk further into the water until it rose up past his lips and sat just beneath his nose, nearly impeding his breathing.

Matsuda slipped himself into the water beside Kamukura with a smirk. “Oh? So Mayor Dumbass of _'I Was Wrong To Not Listen To Matsuda'_ -ville admits he's at fault? You mean to tell me he isn’t a perfect being? _Shocking_."

Shaking his head, Kamukura pushed himself up out of the water a little. “No, I am a perfect being.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Matsuda raised his arms over his head. He groaned audibly as he stretched the muscles and tried to work the tension from his shoulders. 

Keeping the other in sight, Kamukura sunk back into the heated water, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by such pleasant warmth. It made his skin tingle and his limbs feel like they were floating, much like his hair beside his face. 

Moving through the water, he eventually came up the wall of the bath and leaned his back against it, allowing his eyelids to flutter close before taking a deep and relaxed breath.

With the environment being so calm, it felt as if his brain was finally beginning to slow down. Concerns about Matsuda’s wellbeing, anxieties of the past, confusions of the present; they all melted away into the muggy atmosphere, leaving his head filled with nothing but a pleasant foggy sensation. It reminded him too much of the drug induced haze that was settled over his mind for the first few days after his birth.

“Matsudaaaa.” His weak attempt to whine came out more like a monotone groan. “I think I might fall asleep here.”

“Don't be a moron.” Matsuda splashed a bit of water in Kamukura’s direction, smirking when it hit his cheeks. “I’m not going to save you if you drown in the bath. You're on your own this time."

“Mm…” With a soft nod, Kamukura submerged the lower part of his face again, indicating he was tired of talking. The pleasant warmth kissed at his lips, a sensual feeling that made every bone in his body soften beneath its touch. 

He felt as if he were floating endlessly through space.

Logically, he wasn’t, it was merely the buoyancy of the water giving that illusion of sensory deprivation. But that didn’t matter, all that mattered was the enticing pitch black void beginning to swallow him whole.

Kamukura let go.

  
  
  
  
  


_“Oi, troglodyte…”_

_“Kamukura?”_

_“Izuru-! What did I say?!”_

  
  



End file.
